


Guardian

by Durendal



Category: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Coruscant, F/M, Republic Commandos - Freeform, Rescue Mission, Vinsoth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4997323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durendal/pseuds/Durendal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sent in to retrieve a captured Jedi General, Cabur of Hyperion Squad will find his bond with his squadmates tested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian

Coruscant

20 BBY

Republic Commando 1139, Cabur, liked to think he was a good brother. He'd always been there for his brothers, always protected them from things that tried to hurt them. Like when the Null ARCs had ambushed Jawbreaker in retaliation for when he had broken Ordo's jaw. It had been Cabur who had latched onto Jaing's back and had not stopped punching, not even when the other Nulls tried to rip him off. Their payback had been brutal; both Jawbreaker and Cabur had been badly injured and confined to the medbay for weeks. When sergeant Vau had set his pet strill, Lord Mirdalan, on Destroyer for planting explosives in Vau’s quarters, Cabur had kicked the beast off of Destroyer and wrapped his arms around Mird's jaws. Cabur had been badly scarred that day, when the strill had clawed and bitten at his arms and face. When Genet had almost been shot during the live-fire exercises, Cabur had shoved him out of the way, taking a blaster bolt to the arm for his trouble. He had even stepped in when Dain, one of Isabet Reau’s cadets, was being beaten by the psychotic Death Watch woman. That was not a fight Cabur and Dain had won, but at least they had survived, even if only barely. 

Cabur’s training instructor, Sergeant Kelborn, had called the boy's courage and sense of brotherhood admirable, but foolish. There would be times, Kelborn said, where the good of the mission would have to come first, difficult decisions would have to be made and, perhaps, one or more of them would have to be sacrificed in order to achieve their objective. The conversation had shaken Cabur, who believed the bond he held with his brothers was unbreakable, that he would do anything for them, and vice versa. Surely whatever happened, they would always protect each other?

Cabur shook his head, clearing his thoughts of unpleasant old memories. He had more important things to keep his focus on.

Hyperion Squad had been called into General Zey’s officer regarding their latest assignment. Sitting behind his desk, Zey look troubled. Standing behind him was his aide, Captain Maze, who remained impassive, his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Thank you for coming, Hyperion,” Zey greeted, motioning for them to sit. 

“General Zey, Captain Maze.” Jawbreaker nodded at each of them.

Cabur nodded as well. Cabur liked Zey; he was a good man. A bit spineless perhaps, especially when it came to Skirata and his boys, but a good man, nonetheless. Maze was…well, he was ok. For an ARC trooper. Try as he might, Cabur could just not understand the appeal of working alone. They were brothers; they were supposed to work in concert with each other, playing off each other’s strengths, covering for one another’s weaknesses. The lone warrior thing seemed, in Cabur’s opinion, unnecessarily risky, gave rise to antisocial behaviour and was, although he would never say so to Maze (or any ARC, for that matter) perhaps just a bit lonely. Still, Cabur had to admit that the ARCs were impressive soldiers, and they could generally get the job done. For that, they had his respect, if not his understanding.

Zey activated a holo-emitter on his desk. Instantly, a small, blue figure sprung up of a Jedi Knight. He was not of a species that Cabur recognised, having three eyestalks, a snout and four arms, each with three fingers and a thumb.

“This is General Yufour Fall. He and the clone commander assigned to him, CC-80/88-3009, aka, A’den, were on route to Glee Anselm aboard their flagship, the Conqueror, when we lost all contact with them. Three days later, we received reports of survivors on Carvandir. Evidently, they had been dragged from hyperspace through use of an interdictor cruiser and ambushed. The survivors have reported that General Grievous himself was leading the attack, boarding The Royalty personally. What’s unusual is that he left survivors at all. While we’re still currently unsure, we suspect that the General was in a rush, hence his sloppiness. General Fall was captured, and Commander A’den was…well…” Zey trailed off, looking decidedly pale. 

“What’s the status of Commander A’den?” Jawbreaker asked hesitantly.

Zey winced, and Cabur felt his stomach drop “He’ll…live.” Zey offered weakly. 

Cabur and Jawbreaker traded uneasy looks. What kind of condition was A’den in? 

Jawbreaker cleared his throat “You said General Fall was captured. Are we being sent to discover his location, or is this a rescue mission?”

“Rescue, Sergeant. General Fall’s location has been tracked to a facility on Vinsoth.” 

Vinsoth, home to the Chevin and Chev races. The Chevin were a notorious race of slavers, it was no wonder that they had thrown their lot in with the Separatists. They had done the same during the Mandalorian Wars, offering their Chev slaves to the Mandalorians if they spared their world. While the plan had been successful, some of the Chevin had voluntarily joined up with the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders, becoming some of their best overseers. They were responsible for overseeing the induction of captured civilians into the Mandalorian armies, where most of them were shunted to the front lines as cannon fodder. Now, in the present, the Chevin were again offering their Chev slaves as disposable soldiers, while many of the Chevin acted as wardens in the Separatists numerous prison camps.

Zey pressed a button on his desk, and another hologram flickered to life, replacing the form of Yufour Fall. A towering fortress loomed over the desk, looking ominous and out of place in Zey’s office. 

They went over what limited intelligence they had. They had been unable to procure the schematics for the prison, which would prove to be problematic for Hyperion Squad when they attempted to infiltrate it. Still, they had been in situations where they had received little information before, they would make do with what they had, and when they breached the target, they would download the building’s plans if possible.

“Now, in light of how long General Fall has already been held captive, you will regrettably have no time to plan for this mission.” Zey sounded sincerely apologetic, and he was frowning “So you will have to leave as soon as you’re properly equipped. A ship has already been prepped and is on the landing pad.”

Jawbreaker nodded “Understood, General. We’ll work something out while we’re on route to Vinsoth. This isn’t the first time we’ve been forced to go in on short notice after all.” It was perhaps redundant to say so, considering that Zey was responsible for assigning missions to them in the first place and so knew that. Still, Cabur felt that Jawbreaker was trying to ease the guilt from Zey.

“Good, good.” Zey stood up, and Hyperion Squad did the same “I’ll let you leave and ready yourself then. Hyperion Squad, dismissed.” 

***

Hyperion Squad made their way to the landing pad outside of Arca Barracks. They had selected their loadout for the mission and were ready to leave. Planning for the extraction of General Fall while flying to Vinsoth would be a challenge, but they were capable enough, they would work something out. 

“Oh, great,” Genet muttered over their built-in helmet com system “Here comes the Lapdog.”

Beside him, Destroyer groaned, and ahead of them, Cabur could see Jawbreaker wince. Making his way towards them was General Bardan Jusik. Or, as Hyperion Squad (among several other squads, for that matter) had dubbed him, “the Lapdog”. Skirata’s loyal, obedient little lapdog, who would do whatever Skirata asked, whenever he asked. Jusik would believe every little lie Skirata would tell him, “The Jedi steal children, the Jedi don’t care about the clones, General Kenobi is an egotist and a gloryhound who throws his men away”, it made Cabur roll his eyes at the man’s naiveté. Those were all falsities of course, but that last one was perhaps the most bizarre, at least to Cabur. As far as he knew, Skirata had never met Kenobi. Cabur had, however, and Kenobi certainly did not display any of the traits that Skirata had assigned to him. Sergeant Kelborn had met Kenobi too, many years prior, during the Great Clan Wars on Mandalore, when Kenobi had still been a padawan. Kelborn spoke quite highly of both Kenobi and his master, Qui-Gon Jinn, and had been saddened to hear of the Jedi Master’s death.

“Sergeant Jawbreaker, good to see you!” Jusik greeted the squad’s leader, a broad grin on his face.

“Hello, General Jusik,” Jawbreaker replied, trying rather miserably to hide the distaste in his voice. 

In spite of Jawbreaker’s poor attitude, Jusik didn’t seem to notice. 

“You’re going on a rescue mission, right?”

Cabur noticed Jawbreaker’s fingers twitch, ever so slightly. Cabur frowned, his Sergeant was anxious to leave, a fact which Jusik did not seem to sense. “That’s correct, General, we’ve been assigned to recover General Yufour Fall from a Separatist base.”

Jusik gave a loud sigh and shook his head “It’s so unfair, isn’t it?”

Jawbreaker paused, and Cabur could see him struggling on whether or not to ask the follow-up question. After a moment of deliberation, Jawbreaker reluctantly asked: “What’s unfair, General?”

“The fact that clones are sent to rescue Jedi and that clones are so rarely rescued by Jedi, of course! I mean, we sent in ARC troopers to rescue those Jedi at Hypori!” Jusik suddenly looked angry. “Tell me, Sergeant, why don’t they feel that you’re worth that? Why is a Jedi worth more to the war effort than you? Because we’re running the show? Because we own you?” 

For a minute, Jawbreaker stood there in silence. Cabur wondered if his sergeant was as stunned as he was, or if Jawbreaker was angry at Jusik’s naiveté. 

“General Jusik,” Jawbreaker said evenly, although Cabur was sure that there was indeed a tinge of exasperation in his voice “You do understand that this is war, don’t you?”

Jusik seemed taken aback by the question, and frowned. “Yes, of course I do! What do you-?”

“Then surely you realise that in any army, the officers are treated with more importance than the frontline soldiers. This would be the case if we weren’t clones, this would be the case if they weren’t Jedi. The fact that you think this style of command is unusual shows a rather poor understanding of military structure. Besides, of the Jedi on Hypori, three of them were Masters and two of them were on the Jedi Council. The fact that we lost even three Jedi on Hypori is a serious blow to the war effort. If we had lost General Ti or General Mundi, there would have been serious repercussions, not just to the Republic, but for morale as well. We’re good, but we aren’t capable of doing the things that come naturally to the Jedi.” Jawbreaker tilted his helmet to look down at Jusik “Will you excuse us, General? We have a ship to catch.”

 

Bardan nodded dumbly, looking stunned. And at that, Jawbreaker sidestepped Jusik and marched off. 

Jusik looked hurt by Jawbreaker’s tirade. Cabur suspected that like Kal Skirata, Jusik was deeply pained by the idea that a clone trooper did not like him. His downcast face almost made Cabur feel sorry for him.

Still, he could not help but point out the mistake that Jusik had made.

“For the record, you don’t own or administer us. The Republic does.” Cabur paused, thinking “Although, if you get right down to it, ultimately it’s the Chancellor who owns us. Really, you have little more say in this situation than we do.”

And at that, Cabur made to follow Jawbreaker.

“I really do not care for that man,” Jawbreaker muttered, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

 

“Eh, he’s not so bad. I mean, he does care about us,” Destroyer said, shrugging.

“Yes, and I appreciate that, I do. The problem is that he seems to think that he’s the only Jedi who does. We get enough of that 'Jedi don’t care for clones’ osik from Skirata, I really don’t need to hear it from his pet Jedi too. And he’s just so smug and preachy about it,” Jawbreaker replied. 

“Personally, I blame the Nulls. They’re such a bad influence,” Cabur added

“Or Skirata.” Genet piped up.

Jawbreaker snorted. “That man has a talent for finding gullible people who will believe whatever osik he spews, even when provided evidence to the contrary. I mean, Jusik’s a Jedi, he of all people should know that his Order doesn’t steal kids. But because Skirata says they do, he believes it. Same with whether or not the Jedi care for their troops. I’ve heard Master Yoda, General Plo Koon and a bunch of others reassure us that we’re people and treat us with respect…”

“But because Skirata says otherwise…” Cabur chimed in.

“Sickening,” Jawbreaker said simply, then said nothing further.

The group trudged along in silence, before finally reaching the landing pad outside of the Arca Barracks. Their ship, a Traffic Interdiction Vehicle, or TIV, sat on the platform, ready to go. In front of it stood three beings. A clone trooper, a Human youngling, perhaps thirteen years old, and a strange alien. It looked like an oversized arachnid, it had eight limbs, four eyes and its body was covered in grey and black hair. Judging by the brown robes it wore, it was probably a Jedi Master, and the Human with it was its Padawan. Hyperion Squad took off their helmets and saluted, an action repeated by the Jedi and his Padawan.

“Hyperion Squad, I am Di Groota, and this is my Padawan, Jyraki Kana.” The Jedi Master extended his hand, and after a moment, Jawbreaker hesitantly took it “Does my appearance unsettle you, Sergeant?”

Jawbreaker winced. “Ah, no, General Groota, I ah…”

Groota chuckled, or at least, Cabur thought he did. Some kind of strange noise was coming from his mouth “Do not worry, Sergeant. I am not offended. I understand that my appearance can be somewhat…unsightly to other species. As an Arachnoid, I am used to it.” 

Arachnoid, Cabur paused, the name was significant in some way. After a moment, he remembered, the Arachnoids were the creators of the EMRG-50 rail gun line. A powerful weapon, to be sure, although Cabur had never used one, only heard stories of them. This was because of the major drawback that affected the weapon: the recoil. A human, even one as strong as himself could not use one without succumbing to the significant blowback. At best, that meant being knocked over, more likely, his bones would be shattered. 

Jawbreaker, meanwhile, smiled nervously. Evidently, he was pleased that he had not insulted this Jedi. “It’s your Padawan we’re going to rescue, correct?”

 

Groota nodded and clicked his mandibles “Indeed, Sergeant. I’m sure that you’re more than capable of performing such a task?”

“Rescue are one of our specialties, General.” 

“Excellent. If indeed you do find General Fall, please, give him this.” Di Groota reached down to his belt and pulled off a spare lightsaber, handing it to Jawbreaker.

Jawbreaker weighed it in his hand, before clipping it onto his own belt. “Of course, General. We’ll be glad to give it to him.”

“Excellent, excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Sergeant, my Padawan and I are shipping out to . I leave the rescue of General Fall in your hands.”

“We won’t fail you, General. We’ll do our best to bring him back alive,” Jawbreaker said solemnly.

“I certainly hope so. Good luck, Sergeant.” And at that, Groota snapped a crisp salute to Jawbreaker, as did Kana, which Jawbreaker returned. Then, they walked away. As they did so, Kana turned back to look at Hyperion Squad, giving them a curious look.

The clone trooper stepped forward. On the torso of his armour there was a scantily clad Zeltron woman, straddling a bomb. Written over and under her figure was: “PEACE THROUGH SUPERIOR FIREPOWER”. 

Seeing the curious glances his armour was getting him, the trooper spoke up: “They don’t let us paint the TIVs like they do for those fancy larty boys. So, this was my compromise.” He pulled of his helmet, revealing a heavily tattooed face, covered in constellations, and smiled at Hyperion Squad “CT-3173, Whiplash, pilot of TIV Z416/3.”

Cabur and Genet shared a quick glance. “Now, that’s a reassuring name.” Genet whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.

They heard Destroyer whistle in appreciation, evidently impressed by Whiplash’s extensive tattoos.

Cabur saw Jawbreaker make brief small talk with Whiplash, before he turned to his squad and motioned for them to get in the TIV. Cabur began to feel anxious. Soon, they would be leaving Coruscant heading for Separatist space, embarking on a very dangerous retrieval mission.


End file.
